


Convergence

by puddinghead



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Understanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 14:54:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4440161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddinghead/pseuds/puddinghead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But… You're our comrade, too… Aren't you?"<br/>Those words, Miranda's words, echoed through his head over and over. They haunted him, chilled him to the bone, made him want to cry.</p><p>The aftermath of the events of volumes 7 and 8, on the boat from China.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Convergence

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this years ago and just cleaned it up a little. Upon re-reading it, I realize that it doesn't exactly fit into the canon timeline, but I don't really mind. If you just go with it, it falls into place, I think.

" _But… You're our comrade, too…_

 _Aren't you?"_  

"DAMN IT!"

Lavi slammed his clenched fist into the bed sheets. Those words, Miranda's words, echoed through his head over and over. They haunted him, chilled him to the bone, made him want to cry. Who was this woman and why did she have to say that? What right did she have to step into his life and break down his defenses right off the bat? He had snapped, finally, and those words just made it a hundred times harder for him to get himself back together.

"I can't do this. I don't have time for this."

Was he crying now, too? Maybe he was. Why not? He had already made an ass out of himself, punched a hole in the ship wall, and made two of the exorcists cry. Go ahead, Lavi, shed a few tears. It didn't matter anymore, not right now.

He rubbed his face, covering it with his shaking hands. He thought about Allen, and about Lenalee. Their struggles. The things that they'd gone through, were going through, on the paths that they'd chosen. He thought about Miranda, exhausted, putting everyone else before herself. The image of her face swirled in his mind and stayed plastered there; it was a still from a movie, in black and white, that he just couldn't get out of his head. That look in her eyes -- defeated, broken, sad beyond comprehension…

No, he knew what sadness was. He wasn't supposed to, as the Bookman's successor, but he knew. He also knew guilt, and he knew pain. He knew it all. They weren't just words on paper, or pictures on the pages of a book. No matter how many times he was told that they were, it didn't change the fact that these things stung him to his all-too-human core.

Finally sick of tossing and turning in bed, he got up and walked over to the window. He looked out for a while and then opened it a crack, welcoming the chilly sea breeze on his skin.

"Lavi, you're such an idiot… Why can't you just get it already?"

After a few moments, his acute ears picked up an unfamiliar sound interrupting the sea's gentle drone. Leaning his head toward the window, he found it to be the sound of footsteps up on deck. 

_'Probably one of the guards…'_

However, when a woman's voice carried down to his window, he knew that he was wrong.

"Why? Why are you such an idiot?"

It was Miranda. Lavi gritted his teeth together, not wanting to listen to this. Even so, he couldn't pull himself away from the window. Mentally cursing his body for not moving, he remained there, head cocked slightly toward the open air, letting the woman's words drift down to him.

"Why did you say that? It was wrong… You're wrong… You're _always_ wrong…"

There was a moment's pause before she murmured something in a lyrical tone. Lavi strained to hear, despite himself.

"Miranda, Miranda, Unlucky Miranda.  
Don't be so gloomy, you stupid loony.  
Looking for a job today? You'll be fired soon anyway…"

There was an awkward sort of hiccuping noise, and then silence. _'She's crying,'_ Lavi knew. He stood there for a few moments more, leaning against the window. She was just as upset as he was. She had put them on the same level, more than a Bookman and an exorcist; she had grouped them as two humans, together on this ship, fighting the same war, wanting the same thing.

In a moment, the window was closed, the door was opened, and the clunk of the future Bookman's boots was dimly echoing through the cabin.

Somehow, his feet were carrying him up to the deck on their own. His mind really had nothing planned to say once he got up there, once he came face-to-face with her. _"Hi there, Miranda. See, I heard you crying from my cabin window, and you know what? No, neither do I. I don't know why I came up here. I'm just going to head back to my room now and pretend this didn't happen. Have a lovely evening!"_

As he stepped onto the deck, salty sea air engulfing him and wrapping itself around his bare face and forearms, he looked over to where Miranda should've been. Sure enough, a dark silhouette was outlined along the railing, crumpled over into a sorry heap. He made his way towards it, ignoring how cold it suddenly felt.When his footsteps reached her ears, the woman gasped audibly and jumped up to look at him.

"O-oh, Lavi. Um, c-can I help you? No, of course I can't help you. I'm a worthless piece of garbage." She laughed quietly, a laugh that should've been bitter and sarcastic but was instead completely honest. Wiping a gloved hand over her eyes, streaking tears across her pale skin, she ventured, "So, wh-what are you doing here?"

Lavi looked the woman up and down. There were so many signs of the lack of concern for her own well-being: a meek posture from a back that never straightened; eyes that told of countless nights deprived of sleep; hair that swept over itself in unheeded waves. Her figure was that of someone who didn't eat more than one meal a day, and a meager meal, at that. Her expression, though it changed with each emotion, had a constant underlying tinge of apology. Now, as he locked his gaze with hers, her eyes were shining with new tears and saying, _"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."_

"I…" He rubbed the back of his neck, gripping fiery hair between his fingers. Shit, why _was_ he here? He hadn't the faintest clue. "Look," he said, straightening up and adopting a solid tone, "I'm sorry about earlier. I was out of line. I really didn't mean to make you cry." He cringed at that last bit, mentally kicking himself for the hundredth time for provoking the woman's unneeded tears.

Miranda blinked, then drew in a breath and bowed her head deeply. "O-oh, well, no, you see, I'm sorry, as well! P-please don't apologize! It was my fault for assuming such things, and I really had no right to say the things I said and…" She choked back a new wave of waterworks, not lifting her head in order to avoid eye contact with the red-haired youth.

Empathy. That was another feeling that he wasn't supposed to know, and yet as he stood there looking at Miranda Lotto, her head bowed and her hair draped over her white face, that feeling surged through his body like never before.He stepped forward and lifted her head with a gentle finger, causing her to gasp again. "Stop apologizing."

"O-oh, I'm sor--" She bit her lip hard and squeezed her eyes shut. Why did she get herself into this? God, she was so useless… Even now she was causing him so much trouble…

"It's not always your fault, you know."

Miranda kept her eyes closed, refusing to look at the fellow exorcist as he spoke these lies, these words that had never before been said in her presence.

"Saying 'sorry' when it's not your fault… That's just a waste of breath. It's not worth it to place guilt upon yourself when there's no reason for you to bear it. Instead, you should be content with saying, 'I wasn't wrong this time. It's okay for me to not hate myself for it.'" He lifted her head a little more, and she allowed her eyes to flutter open. Her brown eyes met his green ones, and that emerald sincerity made her want to cry all over again.

Lavi really didn't know where these words were coming from. Just a few minutes ago he had been so _angry_ , so upset with himself and with her that he could barely think straight. At the same time, though, he knew that this was what he had wanted to say all along. This had been bottled up inside him during the whole journey, from the start of his time at the Black Order, and he had needed to find the right person to share it with, to spill these ink letters across their pages and write words that someone could truly understand.

Miranda Lotto was that person, because she stood there with those trembling hands and those wide shining eyes and she knew exactly what those words meant. Lavi saw it in those eyes; covering up the apologetic gloom was that human depth that told him just what he needed to hear as his words wove themselves through the salty night air.

Finally, he removed his finger from her chin and let her head fall level again. He wrapped his arms around the frail figure in front of him and pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face in her shadowy tresses as she let out a faint squeak. The next words came out of his mouth without his mind's approval. Those words would cling to him from that moment on - they would bind him and not let him forget their inescapable meaning - but he said them at that moment, and they were right; they were sure.

"I _am_ your comrade."

He closed his eyes, letting his head rest on hers. "Thanks for making me see that."

Miranda shivered at his touch, not used to close contact. She bit her lip with the realization that he was thanking her, of all people. Tears welled up in her eyes again as she pressed her face into Lavi's shirt, letting herself be grateful without apology for once in her life.

The two stayed like that, silently unloading their burdens on one another to make up for a lifetime of secrets. After a few minutes, Lavi pulled back, hands still resting on Miranda's back.

"I'd better go back and try to get some sleep."

"O-of course. Sor--"

Lavi smiled softly as she stopped herself. "You learn fast," he chuckled. A freshness had seeped into his bones. He felt right; he felt good. _'So this is what happened when you let your emotions out,'_ he thought a little wistfully. The boy turned and began to walk away, then turned to look back over his shoulder. "You, too. You should head back to the cabin soon, alright? Try to rest."

Miranda nodded. "Y-yes. I'll just be a little longer."

He gave one last smile before he turned back around and was soon gone from sight. Miranda returned her gaze to the endless black sea which had long since melded into the night sky above. She leaned on the railing and let her eyes trace connections between a few dwindling stars.

"Miranda, Miranda…"

She brought a hand to her hair, caressing the locks where Lavi's head had rested a few moments ago. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she thought she could feel the lingering warmth through the thin fabric of her gloves. A smile graced her lips as she closed her eyes once more.

With a deep-but-wavering breath, she turned and headed back toward the cabin stairs.

 


End file.
